We go way back.
Cackler was the smartest girl in my Medieval Political Theory class at college. If nobody in the room knew the answer to the professor's question, he'd say "Miss Cackler?" and she'd shout out "Free will!" or somesuch. One Friday she jumped a ride with my carpool. We ended up in the Irish bar next to my apartment for a few hours, and our friendship began. I was bridesmaid at her first wedding (which she jovially calls "the mistake") and then she married Blick, a fabulous and younger man who is the world's foremost authority on two different topics, one esoteric and the other less so. Blick gave the convocation at our mr and mrsguy wedding (we don't have a name for it, but for symmetry's sake let's call it "the good idea").
Over the years, Cack and mrguy have reduced their intake of fleshes substantially. Cack doesn't eat pork or fish. Guy doesn't eat chicken, duck, beef or pork. Blick eats everything and cleans our plates. So we eat at this Chinese restaurant when they come to visit, and eat chicken and vegetables. And Blick cleans the plates when we're done. It's really quite a happy arrangement, a ritual that we only get to perform once a year.
I can't exactly recall how this came up, but Cack mentioned this potion that I used to keep in my purse, which was called Keep Away Hate:
I used it for all manner of hate-distancing. If I was having a bad day I'd dab a little on my wrists and see if I could turn the day around. Mainly I used it on Sundays at the restaurant where I worked. I kept it in the coffee station. If a known antichrist was seated in my section, I'd dab a little Keep Away Hate on the underside of his or her coffee cup. It made me feel better. If they really misbehaved I'd put a dab on my finger, and go to their table to ask if everything was o.k., leaving a little blue deposit on their table. Nobody called me on it. Not my boss, who disapproved, nor the other waiters, who borrowed my potion on occasion.
In my defense I will say...nothing. It was a punk-ass thing to do. I probably worked in customer service 5 years too long. But when Cackler reminded me of it and that Keep Away Hate was made by Skippy's of Detroit, I had to laugh.
Least mystical name ever.
Skippy's also made the Alleged Black Salt that I sprinkled along my upstairs neighbor's threshold to encourage him to move. Got a bunch of it in my eye somehow and it really stung, no matter how "alleged" it was. In this case I will say something in my defense. My neighbor habitually picked fights with his roommate at 4:30 in the morning and the two of them would heave heavy objects (furniture, flowerpots) at each other while screaming. They had to go.
The black salt worked, but those tenants were replaced by a guy who watched the TV Guide channel at top volume for hours a day. We once played Japanese noise band the Boredoms, and Roadrunner (meep-meep) at top volume in retaliation, but he didn't seem to notice. Nice guy, actually. It's *amazing* how much better life is when you just knock on the door, introduce yourself and explain that the tv is a little too loud.
Today, when researching Keep Away Hate, I discovered that Cack's memory was right: Skippy's of Detroit had actually existed. Here are two guys in front of it back in the day. Now Skippy's is Indio Products, operating out of Commerce California. They sell the usual Santeria supplies as well as next generation stuff such as blue squares, attract customer spray, road opener and the ever popular keep away hate, which is now available as a floor wash.
Indio Products: when interpersonal communication just isn't your thing.